Waking Up Dead In All The Wrong Places
by RobotRollCall
Summary: Just a series of one-shots where Captain Jack fails to die across different fandoms. Multi-fandom crossover. (It only says Supernatural, because it wouldn't let me pick more than one. Currently includes Chuck, CSI:NY, Fringe, Sanctuary and Supernatural.)
1. Chuck vs The Captain

"You know, I didn't even know Castle _had_ a morgue," Chuck said. He followed Sarah into what he had always thought was a closet, but turned out to be a set of stairs leading to the morgue.

"Well, we've never really used it before," Sarah told him. "It just sort of came with the place."

"What, morgues are standard issue for C.I.A. bases?" he asked. She shrugged in assent and he shuddered. "I don't know if I'm comfortable with that. Besides, you know how I feel about dead people. Why do I have to come look at the guy?"

"Because we have no idea who he is or what he was doing where we found him," Casey said suddenly, appearing from nowhere behind Chuck and making him jump. "Time for you to earn your keep."

"We're hoping you can flash on him, Chuck," Sarah said.

"Sure," Chuck said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He bounced once on his toes as Sarah unlocked the freezer drawer the body was in. "But couldn't I just look at a picture?"

"Man up, Bartowski," Casey grunted. "It's just a stiff."

Sarah slid the drawer open. A burst of frozen mist cleared, revealing a man with dark hair and riddled with bullet holes. Chuck sighed and stepped closer, looking down at the corpse. No flashes seemed to be forthcoming, and he was about to say so when the man gasped and opened his eyes.

Sarah's eyebrows shot up into her hair, and a click behind Chuck told him that Casey's gun was now trained on the man. For his part, Chuck just stood there, having suddenly forgotten how to move. Being the closest to the 'corpse', his wide eyes were the first the man's locked on to. Chuck swallowed hard, and the man broke into a grin, cocking an eyebrow at him in what could only be described as a suggestive manner.

"Hey there," he said smoothly. "What's a pretty face like yours doing in a morgue like this?"

"Sarah, why is the dead man flirting with me?" he asked quietly, staring down in horror at the man in front of him.

The man propped himself up on his elbows. "It's not every death I get to wake up to a face as adorable as that one," he continued.

"Sarah, make him stop," Chuck said, edging around behind her.

The man's grin widened appreciatively as his eyes followed Chuck and landed on Sarah, who was now holding up her gun as well. "An adorable nerd _and_ a sexy lady. I gotta die in California more often." He snatched one hand away from her gun and kissed it. She let out a little noise of surprise.

"Hey!" said Chuck. He and Sarah both jumped as a shot rang out and the man collapsed back onto the slab, a bullet hole in the centre of his forehead. They looked up to see Casey glaring at him.

"Casey!" Sarah said.

"What? He was supposed to be dead," Casey said, warily lowering his gun.

"But you can't just—aah!" Chuck jumped again as the man groaned beside him.

"Ow," the man said, glaring up at Casey. "What was that for?"

Casey said nothing, and for what had to be at most the second time in all the years Chuck had known him, he looked deeply unsettled.

The man turned back to Chuck and Sarah. "As I was going to say, before your friend here so rudely interrupted me…Hi. How ya doing? Captain Jack Harkness."

As the words left his mouth, Chuck felt his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Information poured into his brain, words like Torchwood, aliens, Cardiff, immortal…images of strange creatures, grisly death scenes (many of which featured Captain Harkness himself), space ships and black SUV's…The sheer amount of information was overwhelming, and Chuck staggered back.

"Chuck! Are you okay?" Sarah asked, jumping out to steady him. He took a deep breath to steady himself and nodded. "Did you flash?" she asked.

"Oh yeah," Chuck said, pressing a hand to the side of his head. "Big one."

"What, about the undead guy here?" Casey asked, gesturing at Jack with his gun.

"Hey!" Jack said, sitting up. "Not a zombie, first of all, and you know what? I resent that."

Casey growled at Jack and raised his gun again. Chuck reached out a hand, placing it over Casey's and forcing the gun down. "How about we stop shooting people?" he asked.

"Not that it would do much good anyway," Jack added.

"Chuck, what did you see?" asked Sarah.

"Well, let's just say that in the C.I.A. information system, this guy's got a whole filing cabinet all to himself."

"I do like to keep busy," Jack said with a smirk.

"You're not gonna like this," Chuck continued. "But the Intersect would suggest that the best way of dealing with this is just to let him get up and leave."

"What?" demanded Casey.

Chuck pointed over at Jack. "That right there? That's as much sense as he's ever going to make. And I don't think there are enough trees in Burbank for the paperwork we're gonna have if we keep him around."

"So we're just supposed to let him walk out of here?" asked Sarah.

"Yep," said Chuck, sighing and looking over at Jack. He quickly looked back up again. "Maybe get him some pants first…"


	2. Big Apple, Big Explosion

"Whatcha got that couldn't wait till tomorrow, Sid?" Detective Danny Messer asked, clattering down the steps to the morgue. "In kind of a hurry, I got a hot date tonight."

"Oh, I don't think you'll get in too much trouble for being late," Sid said, stepping aside to reveal Lindsey standing on the other side of the autopsy table. "Not since she's down here too."

"Hey, beautiful," Danny said, greeting her with a quick kiss before turning back to Sid. "So, what was so important, Doc?"

Sid gestured down at the corpse in front of them. "Your D.B. from this morning. You said he was in a fire, right?"

"Yeah," Lindsey nodded. "From what we could tell, something in the room exploded—we don't know what yet—and caught the room on fire."

"Burned to death," Danny said, shaking his head. "That's gotta be a painful way to go."

"Nope," Sid said, shaking his head. "Well, I'm sure it is a painful way to go, but that's not what happened to him. He seemed to be in a lot worse shape when he came in, but by the time we got him cleaned off…These are minor burns. I've burned myself worse than this on a hot casserole dish. It's not what killed him."

"Huh," Danny said, puzzled. "I coulda sworn when we first found him…So what then? Smoke inhalation?"

Sid shook his head again. "His lungs are fine."

"He must have already been dead, and someone put him in that room and set the fire to cover it up," Lindsey reasoned.

"A valid theory, my dear," Sid said. "But I'm afraid, wrong again." Danny and Lindsey stared at him, waiting. He sighed. "Quite simply, there is no reason for this man to be dead. Despite what I wrote myself on the initial report, now I can't find a thing wrong with him."

"What, so he just…stopped?" asked Danny, bewildered.

"Apparently," Sid agreed. "Although there was something here…" He broke off muttering and grabbed his scalpel. As the scalpel broke the man's skin above his heart, he stopped. Blood was trickling from the cut.

"That's not right," Lindsey said, stepping forward for a better look.

Warily, Sid pressed the scalpel deeper into the cut he'd made. "OW!" the corpse suddenly cried. Shocked, the three off them jumped back. Sid's scalpel clattered to the floor. "Would you stop that?" the man demanded, sitting up on the table and glaring at Sid. "All day, I've been this close to coming back before you jab that thing into me and hack me open again. And just because I don't stay dead doesn't mean it doesn't hurt!"

A long moment of very awkward, very confused silence passed. "What the hell?" Danny finally managed to say.

Jack swiveled on the table to face them. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He cast his eyes around the room. "This being a morgue and all, you probably weren't expecting that."

"Not really," Lindsey whispered.

"But, but," sputtered Sid. "I did an autopsy on you an hour ago! How are you alive?"

"And there was no way you were alive when we pulled you outta what was left of that room," Danny added.

The man shrugged. "I'm hard to kill. Believe me, there's not much point in my explaining it any further. You wouldn't believe me anyway."

Danny opened his mouth to argue, but Lindsey cut him off. "Wait!" she said. "If you're not dead, then you can tell us what happened in that room."

The man grinned. "Dead man comes back to life in front of you, and you're still on the ball with the case. I like that. You guys cops?"

"We're with the crime lab. I'm Detective Lindsey Monroe, this is Detective Danny Messer…I think you've met Sid already."

"Detectives," he said wish a little flourish and a half-bow from where he sat. "Captain Jack Harkness. To answer your question, yes, there was a fire, and yes, there was an explosion, but it's not anything you need to worry about."

"Excuse me?" asked Danny.

"Well, you're the crime lab, right?" Jack asked. "The person who set the explosion was trying to kill me. Obviously, they didn't succeed, so technically, there wasn't any crime."

"Attempted murder is still a crime," Lindsey pointed out.

"Sharp," Jack said, nodding in approval. "Detective Monroe, I think I like you. You know, if you feel like ditching this place, you and I could make a great team." He paused, looking her up and down significantly and smiled appreciatively. "We might even get around to getting some work done."

"Hey, watch it pal," Danny warned, stepping around to place himself between Lindsey and Jack. In so doing, he missed the smile she tried to hide.

Jack's grin widened. "Oh, don't be jealous, gorgeous, I was getting to you."

Danny's face went bright red as his eyebrows shot up in shock. Behind him, Lindsey made an awkward choking sound as she failed miserably at hiding her laugh with a cough. Sid had the grace not to make eye contact with Danny, but allowed himself a small chuckle as he looked down at the floor.

"Worth a shot," Jack said with a shrug and a smile. "Look, I gotta go. There's not much point in my sticking around here, and if I hurry, I think I can catch up to the guy who planted the bomb in the first place."

"Yeah, whether the murder succeeded or not, vigilante justice isn't really something we're down with here," Danny said, regaining his composure.

"I'm not gonna hurt him," Jack said. "We're having dinner tonight."

Lindsey blinked. "You're having dinner with the man who tried to kill you?"

"Oh, he knew I wouldn't stay dead," Jack answered, waving his hand dismissively. "Ianto's just upset. It was his birthday the other day, and I completely forgot, and I might have accidentally shot him in the arm during a showdown with a Weevil that afternoon. What? It was an accident," he repeated, noticing their disbelieving looks.

Danny opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked at Lindsey. "I just…I don't…"

"Me neither," she said.

"Look, it was great meeting you all, but I'm off." With that, Jack leapt down from the table. Hands on his hips he looked down at himself, fingered the healing autopsy scars on his chest, then looked back up at Sid. "You got some pants I could borrow?"

"I'll…I'll see what we have," Sid said. He gave a resigned sigh and led Jack to the locker room.

Danny and Lindsey looked at each other again. "Well, that was different," Lindsey said.

"That it was," Danny agreed. His brow furrowed in thought and he added. "So, how do we explain to Mac that this case isn't really a case?"

"I say we leave it to Sid," Lindsey said. "I mean, we did our part, by the book and everything. He was dead when we brought him in. Sid's the one in charge of the bodies."

"Hmm," Danny said. "That'll work." He hooked his arm around her waist. "He was right—you are a smart girl."

"He was right about some other things too, gorgeous," she replied with a wicked smile. Danny blushed again and she laughed, standing up on her toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.


	3. Melted Brains And Milkshakes

Walter Bishop made his way to the fridge, humming happily, if slightly out of tune, to himself. What a fine afternoon this was shaping up to be! Their newest case was most captivating—melting brains, he'd seen before of course, but the manner in which this was accomplished was something new and exciting. In addition, Peter had restocked the freezer that very morning with strawberry ice cream, and Ostrich had brought him some fresh strawberries before leaving to help Olivia. The lab was all his, there were melted brains to examine and strawberry milkshakes to eat—what a glorious Thursday!

A sudden gasp made him turn around. One of the corpses was sitting up on the table and coughing. Well, that was unexpected. Intrigued, he walked over. The man looked warily at him, as if he was waiting for Walter to react. It seemed to be up to him to make the first move.

"Hello," Walter said cheerily.

"Hi," the man said carefully, still watching Walter.

"You're not as dead as you looked, I see," Walter said.

"Not any more, no," the man agreed. "You seem remarkably unfazed by that."

Walter smiled. "Well, to tell you the truth, young man, I'm not entirely sure you're really here." He looked around, then leaned in closer to the man, continuing in a conspiratorial whisper. "You see, I mixed myself a lovely new batch of narcotics this morning, and they seem to be rather more potent than I thought. You might be here, or you might not, or you might still be dead. Who's to say?" he ended with a chuckle.

The man smiled. "Well, that's one way to look at it." He stuck out a hand. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness."

Walter shook the offered hand gladly. "Bishop. Dr. Walter Bishop."

Jack's eyes boggled. "Walter Bishop? THE Walter Bishop? Wow. You've done some amazing work."

"Oh, well, thank you, young man," Walter said, delighted. It was always nice to meet a fan.

"Not to change the subject," Jack said, wrinkling his nose. "But what is that smell? It's awful."

"Hmm? Oh, I imagine that would be the melted brain matter you've got on your face. Most of it came pouring out of your nose."

Jack gingerly touched his upper lip, grimacing as his hand came away somewhat sticky. "Yeah, that's probably it."

"There's a sink over here, if you'd like to clean it off," Walter offered. Jack hopped down from the table and followed him. A few minutes later, he'd cleaned off his face and his hair, and Walter had found him a clean shirt to replace his own brain-stained one.

"Thanks. You're sure it's okay if I keep the shirt?" Jack asked.

"Oh, it doesn't bother me at all," Walter assured him. "Besides, it's Peter's, not mine."

Jack grinned. In person, Walter Bishop seemed even crazier than the history books painted him, and Jack couldn't help but like the man.

"I was going to make a strawberry milkshake before you woke up," Walter went on. "Would you like one?"

"Sure." Jack spent the next few minutes cutting strawberries as Walter scooped ice cream and ran the blender. Walter then handed Jack a glass, and sat back with a happy sigh to enjoy the fruits of his labour.

"So," Jack said, after taking a sip of his milkshake. "My brain melted, huh?"

"Oh yes," Walter said. "Yours as well as those two over there." He gestured towards the two other corpses laying out where Jack had woken up. "The 'how' of it is what's puzzling me. Last time this happened, there was a computer virus involved, but that doesn't seem to be the case this time." He took a large slurp of his milkshake. "I suspect it's some sort of energy being transmitted on a specific frequency."

"Got it in one," Jack said with a smile. "That's exactly what it is. You ever heard of Arkon radiation? You transmit that stuff fast enough and it'll liquefy a human brain. Other organs too—depends where you point it."

"Arkon radiation?" Walter asked excitedly. "Yes! Bellie and I experimented with that back in our school days! Why, I haven't thought about that in years! But yes, yes, that would explain it." He laughed and clapped Jack on the shoulder. "Now all I have to do is find that old Arkon counter, reverse the polarity and use it as a tracker! Oh, you are a clever one, aren't you?"

Jack grinned. "Well, I like to do what I can."

Walter's smiled changed into a thoughtful frown. "Of course, now that I know what the problem is, I won't be needing those two anymore," he said, nodding at the corpses. "Pity. I always enjoy a good autopsy."

"Well, they are dead," Jack said. "I doubt they'd mind."

"Ha! Oh, I knew I liked you," Walter said. "Want to give me a hand? Peter usually helps me, but as he's not here…" He cocked an inviting eyebrow at Jack.

"Sure, why not?" Jack said with a shrug. "I've got a couple of hours to kill."

Two autopsies and five strawberry milkshakes later, Walter got a phone call from Peter, telling him they were on their way back. Jack, deciding a discreet exit would be best, thanked Walter for the lovely time and the clean shirt, gave Gene the cow a fond pat, and headed out the door. Walter waved goodbye and got to work on the Arkon counter, and was completely absorbed in his work when Peter, Olivia and the others swarmed into the lab.

He ignored their chatter for a few minutes before realizing that Peter was talking to him. "Hmm? Sorry, son, what was that? I wasn't listening."

Peter sighed. "I was saying that hopefully you've come up with something, because that lead we had was a dead end, and—wait…Weren't there three bodies here when we left?"

"Yes," Walter said, his mind still half on his tinkering.

"Where's the other one?"

"Oh, he left."

Peter blinked. "He left? You mean someone came and took him?"

"No, don't be ridiculous, why would anyone do that? He got up, we had milkshakes and figured out the brain-melting problem, he helped me with the autopsies and then left a few minutes ago. You may have passed him in the hall. I let him have your extra shirt, by the way. I hope that's alright. His had dried brain matter all over it."

"Walter, what are you talking about?" asked Olivia.

"Well, I couldn't very well let him go out in a shirt like that, my dear! It looked quite messy, and frankly, it was starting to smell."

Peter groaned. "Walter, that's not what she meant. The man's brain came out of his ears and his nose, and he was very, very dead. He couldn't just get up and leave."

"Yes. I did mention that when we were doing the autopsy on the other fellow, but Captain Harkness suggested I not worry about it."

"Captain Harkness?" asked Olivia.

"Yes, that was his name. Lovely man. He was ever so helpful in pointing out the use of Arkon radiation—"

"No, seriously Walter," Peter said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Where's the dead guy?"

"I told you, he's not dead anymore, and he left," Walter said patiently, as if explaining to a child that you mustn't touch fire because it's hot. "Now, as I was saying…" He carried on explaining what he had done with the Arkon counter.

"Remind me not to leave him alone in the lab anymore," Peter muttered to Olivia.


	4. An Undead Guy And A Vampire

"Okay, Doc, this is the last one," Henry said. With a grunt, he heaved a corpse off the stretcher and onto the autopsy table.

"Thank you, Henry," Dr. Magnus said, pulling on a pair of rubber gloves.

"It was a rush getting those bodies out before the cops showed up," Henry went on. "No thanks to Will, I might add."

"He's a doctor of psychiatry, Henry," Magnus explained, not looking up from the tools she was selecting.

"I know," Henry said. "But three years in this place, you'd think he'd get used to a little blood."

"In my defense, that wasn't a little blood," Will said, wandering into the room. "That was a whole heck of a lot of blood. Oh," he said, swallowing hard and quickly looking away from the corpse on the table. "Do we have any idea what did this yet?"

"You didn't find any clues in the warehouse?" asked Magnus.

"Nope," Henry said. "Just a bunch of dead guys. And not much of some of them, to tell you the truth."

"Hmm. Well—" Magnus began, stopping suddenly.

"Magnus?" asked Will. She was staring intensely at what remained of the corpse's face. "You okay?"

"Yes, I just…" she trailed off, and began cleaning the man's face with a damp cloth.

"Helen, have you found the…Oh, that's not pretty." Tesla appeared in the doorway, managing to look bored and intrigued by the proceedings at the same time.

"Nikola, come and look at this," Magnus said, waving him over. Her eyes were still focused on the dead man in front of her.

Tesla sauntered over. He studied the dead man's face a moment, then let out a scornful sigh. "Oh, it would just have to be him, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, I thought so," said Magnus. "It's already healing, look at that," she said softly, pointing to a shallow series of gashes on the side of his face.

"Doc, what…Do you know this guy?" asked Henry.

"He's an old friend," she replied.

"An old friend who just had to go and get himself hacked to pieces," Tesla added with a huff of air. "So much for my plans of getting any work done today."

"Now, I doubt it was his fault," Magnus said.

"Ha! Knowing the good Captain, I rather doubt that," Tesla snapped.

"I'm sorry," Will said. "But neither of you seem all that upset that your friend is dead."

"Wrong there, William, I am upset," Tesla said. "Although not that he's dead—just that he's here."

"Nikola, don't be rude," Magnus said. "And he's not dead, Will. He'll be fine."

"Looks pretty dead to me," Henry argued.

"Although not as bad as when you brought him in, does he?" Magnus pointed out. Henry leaned in closer, and even Will braved a quick peek. It was true. The body was still bloodied and bruised, but looked much more like a man than the pile of raw meat it had earlier.

"What the…?" muttered Henry.

"He does that," Magnus said, rather cryptically.

Suddenly the man's eyes flew open, and with a pained gasp, he sat up straight on the table. Will, Henry and Tesla leapt back—Will and Henry in shock, and Tesla in an attempt to keep his suit clean.

"He also does that," Tesla said in a bored tone, flicking a bit of gore from his lapel.

"Hello, Jack," Magnus said pleasantly.

"Helen," Jack said, smiling as he recognized her. He grabbed her gloved hand and kissed it. "So there was an upside to today after all."

"Oh, spare us the flirtation, Harkness," sighed Tesla, taking a step back towards the table. "You've been alive for all of five seconds; can your mind really be that one-track?"

Jack pivoted on the table to face him. "Tesla," he said with a nod. "No need to be jealous. Just because I have the presence of mind to be a gentleman the moment I come back from the dead, whereas you…Well, you never really do, do you?"

"Boys!" Magnus cut in before Tesla could reply. "My house, my rules—play nice," she warned them.

"So I am in the Sanctuary, then?" Jack asked, looking around the room. "You've gone a little more high-tech than when I was last here. 'Course, I guess that was fifty years ago. Who are the new guys?" he asked, nodding towards Will and Henry.

Magnus smiled at the pair of them, who were still staring wide-eyed at Jack. "Henry Foss and Will Zimmerman, both members of my staff," she said, nodding to each as they were introduced. "Although they're really not all that new," she added. Turning to Will and Henry she said, "This is Captain Jack Harkness."

"Cap…Captain," Henry said with a small nod.

"Hello," Will said uncertainly.

"Hey there," Jack said with a wink.

Tesla rolled his eyes. "It's just anything that moves, isn't it?"

Jack turned back to Tesla. "Well, not anything. You'll notice I've left you out of it, Sparkles," he retorted.

"I did notice, and that's the one thing about you I appreciate. Hold on—" Tesla caught himself. "Sparkles?" He closed his eyes and drew in a calming breath. "Please tell me that was not a Twilight reference."

"Would you prefer Edward?" Jack asked with a wicked grin.

"Oh, that is low," Tesla said. "To actually put me on that level of—Even for you, that is just—"

"I prefer 'Sparkles' myself," Jack cut in, ignoring Tesla. "But we can do Edward if you like that better. Eddie, maybe?"

"One more word, Zombie-boy, and I will kill you again," growled Tesla.

"Zombie-boy?" repeated Jack, indignant.

"Now boys, really…" started Magnus.

"No, Helen, I tried because you asked, but that is just too far!" Tesla snapped.

"Bring it on, Shiny. It's not like you're actually going to kill me," Jack taunted.

"Maybe not, but it will hurt, and I'll at least get to enjoy that!"

"Oh, like you could even manage that," Jack said, rolling his eyes. With a growl, Tesla dove towards Jack, claws extended, and the two of them rolled off the table and onto the floor.

"Oh, honestly, you're like children, the pair of you!" Magnus sighed, exasperated. She turned to a wide-eyed Henry and Will and ushered them towards the door. "Come on, we may as well leave them to it." They left the lab, and just before closing the door, Helen stuck her head back in. There was a howl and the sound of shattering glass, and she shouted to be heard above the noise. "I'll have you know that you will both be paying for and replacing whatever you break in here!"


	5. Carry On, My Wayward Captain

The sudden silence hit Dean like a punch in the gut, and it was a few moments more before he allowed himself to relax. He lowered the Colt—now several bullets lighter—and gave a forceful kick into the ribs of the demon at his feet. Satisfied that it was dead, he scanned the room, his eyes instinctively seeking out Sam. "Sammy? You okay?"

His brother was unsteadily picking himself up off the floor, pausing on his way up to pull his knife from the still body of another demon. "Yeah, I think so," he replied. He stumbled back and caught himself on the wall behind him.

"You don't look it," Dean said, crossing the room in a few short strides. "Looks like he threw you into that wall pretty good," he added, noting the blood trickling from underneath Sam's hair. "Let's get out of here and get that patched up. Where's Cas?"

"I'm here," a voice came from the other end of the room. The angel was staring down at the remains of a man in a long blue coat, smoke still rising from the hollows where his eyes used to be.

"It still creeps me out when he does that," Sam said with a grimace.

"As long as he's ganking demons, I don't care how he does it," Dean replied, although, truthfully, he agreed with Sam. It was the smoking eyes that did it. Ignoring Sam's protests, he hooked his brother's arm over his shoulder and helped him across the room.

"We should go," Cas said as they reached him. "It will be—"

Whatever he had been about to say was cut off as the man in the blue coat sat up with a strangled gasp. He groaned, rubbing his hands across his face, and when they dropped, two perfectly normal, unburnt eyes were blinking into the semi-darkness of the room in confusion.

"What the hell?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, unable to find any other words.

The man on the floor turned at the sound of their voices. His eyebrows furrowed as he studied them. "Do I know you?" he asked.

In an instant, Castiel had grabbed the man by the collar and hauled him to his feet. "What are you?" he demanded.

"Whoa, whoa, easy, bug guy," the man protested.

"Easy?" Dean repeated. The Colt was back in his hand again, and Sam had pushed off of his shoulder and was standing ready with the demon knife. "This from the undead demon who just tried to kill us?"

"I don't think he's a demon, Dean," Sam said uneasily. "I've never seen one do that."

"Sam is right," Cas said. "The demon that was within him is dead. I believe this man is human." He was staring at the man with an expression that made Dean flinch.

"Yes," the man said. "Just a human. Not a demon. The whole 'undead' thing is debatable—" His words were cut off with a cry of pain as Castiel's hand seemed to plunge into his stomach in a flash of white light. The light vanished and Cas loosened his grip on the man's collar, allowing him to slump to the floor with a moan, arms clamped protectively around his midsection.

"Did you just…" Sam swallowed, grimacing in sympathetic pain. "Did you just touch his soul?"

"Yes," Castiel said.

"You could at least buy me a drink first," coughed the man on the floor.

"This man makes no sense," Cas continued, ignoring the comment. "He is no more than a human. He has no powers or marks of protective influence—angelic or otherwise. There is no reason for him to be alive. He should have perished along with the demon inside him."

"Alright," Dean said, crouching down in front of the man. "So what the hell are you?" he asked, gesturing with the Colt.

The man flashed Dean a grin that reminded him uncomfortably of the one he used on girls in bars. "Hi. Captain Jack Harkness." He began to get to his feet, but stopped with a wary look up at Cas. "Alright if I get up, or is tall, gruff and handsome gonna get all handsy again?"

Dean stood, considering the captain. "You can get up. But no sudden moves."

Jack rose to his feet, hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I promise. I think we got off on the wrong foot here."

" 'The wrong foot' being the part where you just tried to kill us?" Sam asked, raising a sceptical eyebrow.

"That would be the one," Jack said. "Look, I'm sorry about that."

"Oh, well, that makes it better," Dean scoffed.

"I fail to see how," Cas put in.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sarcasm, Cas. We've been working on this."

Cas nodded slowly. "Of course. Is it the tone? It sounds very similar to your normal pattern of speech."

Dean raised his free hand in surrender and looked to Sam for help, who shook his head and smiled. Jack's eyes were darting between the three of them, one corner of his mouth quirking up in amusement. "Let me guess: Alien?" he asked, nodding at Castiel.

"An angel, actually," Cas replied.

"And we are not here to discuss what he is or his failure to understand the basics of human speech," Dean snapped, whirling back to Jack. "We are talking about you."

"Right," Jack said. "Well, like the angel here said, I am human."

"A human who can survive having his insides burned out by an angel?" Dean wasn't buying that.

Jack shrugged. "A human who can survive anything. I can't die."

Dean and Sam looked at one another, considering. It was weird, but then…they had seen weirder.

"Deal with a demon?" Sam suggested. "Immortal until the hell hounds track you down?"

"Or one of those zombie spells," Dean added. "Like that guy who kept adding new parts."

"None of the above," Jack said. "I just don't die."

"How is that possible?" Cas demanded.

"I don't know," Jack said. "Well, I do, I just…don't know how it works."

"Meaning?" Dean prompted.

"Meaning, I had a mishap with the Time Vortex, and now I just keep on keeping on."

To Dean's surprise, Cas nodded in understanding. "I see."

"Is this you practicing sarcasm?" he asked.

Cas turned to him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "No, it did not seem an appropriate time," he said sincerely. "I do understand what Captain Harkness is saying. The Time Vortex is tricky to navigate at the best of times. The slightest error can have drastic consequences."

"So, time travel?" Sam asked.

"Time travel gone wrong," Cas replied before Jack could. "When I touched his soul, it felt…untethered. His soul exists at all points in time now, instead of being fixed to one and dying when it passes."

"Pretty much," Jack said. "Although I wouldn't have put it that…poetically. Not bad for a guy trying to figure out emotions," he added with a wink at Cas. "And like I said before, sorry for trying to kill you. That was...well, demon possession is a new one for me."

"Yeah, well, we've certainly been down that road before. Here," Sam said, digging in his jacket pocket. "You should probably take this." He held out a small amulet on a leather cord. "Keeps the demons out."

"Yeah, we have enough problems in this world without demons finding immortal hosts," Dean added. "Might want to think about getting one of these, too." He pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal his tattoo.

Jack grinned appreciatively. "Well, if you're offering,"

Sam snorted with ill-suppressed laughter, and Dean jerked his collar back up so quickly he nearly punched himself in the chin. "You may be immortal, but don't think I won't shoot you where it hurts."

Cas leaned over to Sam. "This is flirtation, yes?"

"Yes, it is," Sam grinned, and Cas nodded happily, pleased to have picked up the cue correctly.

"And it is stopping right now!" Dean barked.

Jack chuckled. "I don't think I ever got your names, by the way. I mean, you did just save me from an eternity of being possessed by evil, so I'd like to know who to thank."

Sam extended a hand in greeting. "Sam Winchester. That's my brother, Dean, and this is Castiel."

"Thank you," he said sincerely. A mischievous glint sprang to his eye. "Brothers, huh? That's pretty hot."

Sam jerked his hand out of Jack's, and this time it was Dean who was laughing. "Alright, alright," Jack said with a smile. "Seriously, though, thanks for the save. If you ever need me to return the favour, I'm sure your angel buddy here can track down an untethered soul in the Vortex." He winked at Cas. "Or you can look me up your own, Wings. If you really want to learn a thing or two about humans." He laughed at Cas's puzzled expression, flipped open a leather strap on his wrist, and disappeared in a crackle of light that left the air smelling of ozone.

"What the…?" Dean wondered.

"A time jump," Cas said. "Impressive." He turned to Dean. "What did he mean when he said he could teach me about humans? Is it something I cannot learn from the two of you?"

Sam erupted in a sudden fit of coughing, and Dean's face turned stony. "Yes. So very much yes."

"So do you think I should find him, then?"

"No!" the brothers chorused.

"Some things you're better off not knowing," Dean added. He turned to Sam, who was gingerly rubbing at the bloody spot on his head. "Alright, Sammy?"

"I think so," Sam replied, staring at the spot where the captain had vanished. "How hard did I hit my head?"

Dean shook his head. "All that definitely just happened, if that's what you're asking." He shot a glance at Cas, who still looked confused. "Rock, paper, scissors on who has to explain that weirdo to Cas?"

"Dude, you know I always win at that," Sam pointed out. "Besides, you're the big brother. 'The talk' is supposed to be your job."


End file.
